SOLOMON'S

CANTICLE OF CANTICLES.

Solomon's Canticle of Canticles

Chapter 1

1 Let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth: for thy breasts are better
than wine,

2 Smelling sweet of the best ointments. Thy name is as oil poured out:
therefore young maidens have loved thee.

3 Draw me: we will run after thee to the odour of thy ointments. The king
hath brought me into his storerooms: we will be glad and rejoice in thee,
remembering thy breasts more than wine: the righteous love thee.

4 I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of
Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon.

5 Do not consider me that I am brown, because the sun hath altered my
colour: the sons of my mother have fought against me, they have made me
the keeper in the vineyards: my vineyard I have not kept.

6 Shew me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou
liest in the midday, lest I begin to wander after the flocks of thy
companions.

7 If thou know not thyself, O fairest among women, go forth, and follow
after the steps of the flocks, and feed thy kids beside the tents of the
shepherds.

8 To my company of horsemen, in Pharao's chariots, have I likened
thee, O my love.

9 Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtledove's, thy neck as jewels.

10 We will make thee chains of gold, inlaid with silver.

11 While the king was at his repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour
thereof.

12 A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my
breasts.

13 A cluster of cypress my love is to me, in the vineyards of Engaddi.

Chapter 5

1 Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat the fruit of his apple
trees. I am come into my garden, O my sister, my spouse, I have gathered my
myrrh, with my aromatical spices: I have eaten the honeycomb with my
honey, I have drunk my wine with my milk: eat, O friends, and drink,
and be inebriated, my dearly beloved.

2 I sleep, and my heart watcheth; the voice of my beloved knocking:
Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is
full of dew, and my locks of the drops of the nights.

3 I have put off my garment, how shall I put it on? I have washed my
feet, how shall I defile them?

4 My beloved put his hand through the key hole, and my bowels were
moved at his touch.

5 I arose up to open to my beloved: my hands dropped with myrrh,
and my fingers were full of the choicest myrrh.

6 I opened the bolt of my door to my beloved: but he had turned
aside, and was gone. My soul melted when he spoke: I sought him,
and found him not: I called, and he did not answer me.

7 The keepers that go about the city found me: they struck me: and
wounded me: the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.

8 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that
you tell him that I languish with love.

9 What manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, O thou most
beautiful among women? what manner of one is thy beloved of the
beloved, that thou hast so adjured us?

10 My beloved is white and ruddy, chosen out of thousands.

11 His head is as the finest gold: his locks as branches of palm trees,
black as a raven.

12 His eyes as doves upon brooks of waters, which are washed with
milk, and sit beside the plentiful streams.

13 His cheeks are as beds of aromatical spices set by the perfumers.
His lips are as lilies dropping choice myrrb.

14 His hands are turned and as of gold, full of hyacinths. His belly as
of ivory, set with sapphires.

15 His legs as pillars of marble, that are set upon bases of gold. His
form as of Libanus, excellent as the cedars.

16 His throat most sweet, and he is all lovely: such is my beloved,
and he is my friend, O ye daughters of Jerusalem.

17 Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou most beautiful among women?
whither is thy beloved turned aside, and we will seek him with thee?

Chapter 6

1 My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the bed of
aromatical spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

2 I to my beloved, and my beloved to me, who feedeth among the lilies.

3 Thou art beautiful, O my love, sweet and comely as Jerusalem:
terrible as an army set in array.

4 Turn away thy eyes from me, for they have made me flee away. Thy
hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from Galaad.

5 Thy teeth as a flock of sheep, which come up from the washing, all
with twins, and there is none barren among them.

6 Thy cheeks are as the bark of a pomegranate, beside what is hidden
within thee.

7 There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and young
maidens without number.

8 One is my dove, my perfect one is but one, she is the only one of her
mother, the chosen of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and
declared her most blessed: the queens and concubines, and they praised
her.

9 Who is she that cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon,
bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in array?

10 I went down into the garden of nuts, to see the fruits of the valleys,
and to look if the vineyard had flourished, and the pomegranates budded.

Chapter 7

1 What shalt thou see in the Sulamitess but the companies of
camps? How beautiful are thy steps in shoes, O prince's daughter! The
joints of thy thighs are like jewels, that are made by the hand of a
skilful workman.

2 Thy navel is like a round bowl never wanting cups. Thy belly is like
a heap of wheat, set about with lilies.

3 Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins.

4 Thy neck as a tower of ivory. Thy eyes like the fishpools in Hesebon,
which are in the gate of the daughter of the multitude. Thy nose is as
the tower of Libanus, that looketh toward Damascus.

5 Thy head is like Carmel: and the hairs of thy head as the purple
of the king bound in the channels.

6 How beautiful art thou, and how comely, my dearest, in delights!

7 Thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of
grapes.

8 I said: I will go up into the palm tree, and will take hold of
the fruit thereof: and thy breasts shall be as the clusters of the
vine: and the odour of thy mouth like apples.

9 Thy throat like the best wine, worthy for my beloved to drink, and
for his lips and his teeth to ruminate.

10 I to my beloved, and his turning is towards me.

11 Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field, let us abide in
the villages.

12 Let us get up early to the vineyards, let us see if the vineyard
flourish, if the flowers be ready to bring forth fruits, if the
pomegranates flourish: there will I give thee my breasts.

13 The mandrakes give a smell. In our gates are all fruits: the new
and the old, my beloved, I have kept for thee.

Chapter 8

1 Who shall give thee to me for my brother, sucking the breasts
of my mother, that I may find thee without, and kiss thee, and
now no man may despise me?

2 I will take hold of thee, and bring thee Into my mother's house:
there thou shalt teach me, and I will give thee a cup of spiced
wine and new wine of my pomegranates.

3 His left hand under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.

4 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up,
nor awake my love till she please.

5 Who is this that cometh up from the desert, flowing with
delights, leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple tree I raised
thee up: there thy mother was corrupted, there she was defloured that
bore thee.

6 Put me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm, for love is
strong as death, jealousy as hard as hell, the lamps thereof are fire and
flames.

7 Many waters cannot quench charity, neither can the floods drown it: if a
man should give all the substance of his house for love, he shall despise it
as nothing.

8 Our sister is little, and hath no breasts. What shall we do to our
sister in the day when she is to be spoken to?

9 If she be a wall: let us build upon it bulwarks of silver: if she be a
door, let us join it together with boards or cedar.

10 I am a wall: and my breasts are as a tower since I am become in his
presence as one finding peace.

11 The peaceable had a vineyard, in that which hath people: he let
out the same to keepers, every man bringeth for the fruit thereof a
thousand pieces of silver.

12 My vineyard is before me. A thousand are for thee, the
peaceable, and two hundred for them that keep the fruit thereof.

13 Thou that dwellest in the gardens, the friends hearken: make me
hear thy voice.

14 Flee away, O my beloved, and be like to the roe, and to the
young hart upon the mountains of aromatical spices.